Dead Man's Party
by iloveromance
Summary: A late-night ruckus is cause for alarm. Or is it? Inside is the result of what happens when you mix a popular 80's song with an even more popular TV show in the month dedicated to Halloween. Written for samanddianefan10 and jessie 33.


_**A/N: This is a totally random, completely insane and out of character story that I came up with after being reminded of a long-forgotten (and totally awesome!) 80's song. So please enjoy this craziness that I've come up with. And reviews are very much appreciated!**_

The noise startled him, bringing him out of a sound sleep. He cursed loudly and opened his eyes. One glance at the clock indicated that it was much too early to be awakened in such a harsh manner. A man had to get some rest; especially a man with his own farm and two daughters to provide for. He swung his bare feet to the floor and rose to a standing position.

As soon as he dressed in a worn pair of overalls, his feet shoved into an even more worn pair of shoes, he grabbed his guns, slinging them over his shoulder. He was prepared to take care of whatever it was and when he did he was going to make sure that they never bothered him again.

He made his way downstairs, prepared to walk out the door and see what was causing all of the commotion. Most likely it was a raccoon or some other small animal that would be easy to take down. He'd done it plenty of times, despite the protests of his youngest daughter, Beth. The memory made him chuckle. She was as good as they came at destroying walkers and biters, but when it came to small animals (especially those with fluffy fur) she was as soft as cotton.

He, however, was the complete opposite. He was a fighter; always had been and always would be. Whenever there was trouble; he took care of it right away. And he was going to make whatever it was sorry that they had messed with him, even from the faraway distance of the barn. He should have taken Beth's utmost concern for so-called innocent animals into consideration before he grabbed his guns, but his sleep had been disturbed. And Hershel Greene did not take that lightly.

He paused only for a few seconds to make sure that Beth and his oldest daughter, Maggie hadn't done something foolish and heard the ruckus too, making the very unwise choice to follow him to the back door. But as he stood in the kitchen he could see that the house was as dark as it had been when he'd retired to his bedroom intent on finally getting a good night's sleep. Obviously that didn't (and wasn't going to) happen tonight.

 _Damn…_

When he was all but certain that he was alone, he walked out of his house, his guns securely around his shoulder, with the intent to kill and destroy. It was the only way and the perpetrators needed to know that he wouldn't stand for such an intrusion ever again.

* * *

As he made his way across the darkened farm (with nary a moon in sight), he paused yet again to glance up at the second story of the big white house, somewhat relieved when he noticed that the lights were off. It was a sure-fire indication that Beth and Maggie were where they should be; in their beds asleep. The validation was enough to get him moving again. He knew that the quicker he moved the quicker the job would be done and the quicker he could get back to bed. The minutes were ticking away, chiseling off minutes of precious sleep; minutes that he couldn't and wouldn't ever get back.

In the distance he could hear clearly the racket going on and on, growing louder with each step. No doubt there were scads of intruders out there; Walkers, Roamers, Biters, Creepers, and even Lurkers, although he doubted it. No Lurker had ever come out his way, but if they did, he was more than prepared. And he was going to make sure that they wished they hadn't come to the Greene Family Farm.

He moved closer and closer and by the time he was only a few feet away the noise was deafening. Suddenly he knew that this job was going to be much harder than he'd originally anticipated. It was time to call in some extra help.

The phone pressed to his ear, he could feel his heart beating rapidly, and it was a war of sorts, as to which was harder on his aging body; his pounding heart or the way his heavy breathing was causing strain on his chest. He cursed again as he listened to the phone ring for the umpteenth time but then it miraculously stopped.

 _"Um… yeah?"_ A sleepy voice answered.

"Rick?"

 _"Yeah, who'd you think it was?"_

"Don't get smart with me, okay? It's Hershel. I need you out here."

 _"What? Now?"_

"Yes now!"

Rick groaned. _"What's going on?"_

Hershel looked around nervously, hoping that whatever was causing the commotion wouldn't catch him on the phone. He was risking his life in a big way. "Well, I'm not sure but I don't think I can handle it alone."

 _"What is it?"_

"Something's in the barn. A lot of something's, I'm afraid."

 _"What, like Walkers?"_

"Something like that. Just get over here. And you'd better bring plenty of backup and ammunition."

 _"You think it's that bad?"_

"Could be. Possibly worse. All I know is that if you don't get over here soon, Beth and Maggie will be orphans. I'd take em on myself but it's too much."

 _"All right, Hershel, just … are Maggie and Beth safe?"_

"Yeah, they're upstairs asleep. I don't think they heard anything. But I sure as hell did. Damn them for interrupting my sleep."

 _"And mine."_ Rick said. _"All right. I'll get everyone together. Give me ten minutes, okay?"  
_

"You think you can do it that fast?"

" _I said I would, didn't I?"_

"All right fine. But hurry. And don't be surprise if I'm not dead when you get here."

 _"It's not gonna come to that, okay? Just stay where you are. Don't move. I mean it, Hershel."_

"All right, fine. I'll stay right here."

The phone buzzed in his ear, an indication that Rick had hung up, but Hershel stayed perfectly still. He was as good as his word and wouldn't move a muscle until he caught sight of Rick and the others in the group.

* * *

He was so tired, standing there waiting for a sign that someone had come that he damn near forget about the ruckus that was happening in the barn. And then the vehicles approached; four of them. Doors shut, startling him into the present and he looked up to see Rick, Marshone, Daryl, Carol, some others whose faces he couldn't quite make out. But each of them, like Hershel, had a slew of guns strapped to their shoulders, ready to use at any moment.

"Where is it?" Rick asked.

"This way." Hershel said, pointing to the barn.

The group walked slowly toward the barn, where the noise increased with each step. And then they all paused at the door.

"All right, you'd better surrender or we're coming after you!" Rick yelled. "I mean it! I-."

"Aw, the hell with this…" Daryl said, lifting his foot to forcefully give the barn door a swift kick. It opened immediately, causing everyone to jump back at the blaring noise.

But it wasn't noise at all. And something wasn't quite right.

"What in the hell is this?" Daryl asked, as the group stared at the sight before them.

"Music." Carol said.

"Damn it of _course_ it's music." Rick said. "What the hell is it doing blasting in Hershel's barn in the middle of the-."

"Oh my God…"

"What is it?"

Hershel swung around at the familiar voice. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"I called him, Daddy." Maggie said, stepping protectively in front of Glenn.

"I thought I told you to stay in bed!" Hershel yelled.

"You didn't say anything Daddy." Beth replied.

"But you girls know better than to be out here in the middle of the night."

"We heard the noise and wanted to see what it was. And you weren't in the house, so-."

"Damn you! Don't you know how dangerous this could be?"

"Yes, Daddy and that's why I called Glenn!"

"Oh my God..." Carol said again, walking further into the barn.

"Carol, _don't_!" Darryl shouted. "You'll only regret it!"

"This isn't just music." Carol said.

Daryl lowered his gun. "Carol what in the hell are you talking about?"

"This song…" She said starting to move back and forth to the music. "God, I haven't heard this since high school! It's Oingo Boingo!"

Beth giggled. "Oingo _what?_ "

" _Oingo Boingo_." Carol repeated, smiling at Beth. "They're a band. Oh God, I used to dance to this song all the time! But-."

"Carol, don't." Daryl warned again as Carol proceeded to walk all the way into the barn. "Fine, it's your funeral!" He shouted.

She flinched only for a moment, remembering her beautiful daughter Sophia. God how she missed that little girl. How dare he bring up her name at a time like this.

"No." She said flatly. "They're not here to harm us."

"The hell they aren't!" Daryl said. "Look at em!"

Rick and Glen (with Maggie's arms securely around Glen's waist) made their way into the barn. "Put down your weapons!" Rick ordered.

"Rick, what the hell-."

"He's right, Daryl! Put down your guns!" Marshone said.

Carol grabbed Daryl's arm and dragged him into the barn, where the song began again, almost instantly after it ended.

"What the hell is this? And someone damn well better tell me the truth!" Daryl demanded.

"Can't you tell?" Carol asked. "It's a dance!"

They looked around the barn, which was filled with Walkers, Roamers, Biters, Creepers, and, to Hershel's amazement, even Lurkers.

"How in the hell did they get in here?" He asked.

"Beats the hell out of me." Daryl said, reminding Hershel that he'd asked the question out loud. "But we should get rid of them."

"NO!" Carol shouted, when Daryl raised his gun. "They're dancing, can't you see that? And they want us to join them."

He looked at her, incredulous. "What? No way, Carol. No _way_! No way am I dancing with a bunch of-."

"You won't be with them. You'll be with me!" She gave him a look that Hershel knew all too well, for it was the same look he used to give his wife years ago.

"You'd better do as she says, Daryl." Hershel advised, winking at Daryl. "Trust me on that one, okay?"

Daryl pointed to the group. "What about the rest of them?"

Glenn looked at Maggie and shrugged. And then everyone (even Rick!) turned to Hershel as though the decision was solely his. But everyone knew that Rick was the leader of the group so why him? He was about to ask that very question but when he looked around the room, he knew it was pointless. Everyone was dancing and strangely having a good time. Even with body parts falling off, and the way some of them were literally decaying before his eyes, he knew a good time when he saw one.

"What do you think, Rick?"

"I don't think we have a choice." Rick replied.

Carol nodded and everyone put down their guns. "All right everyone. We can kill them all tomorrow. Tonight, it's time to party."

And on that night, they danced and partied like they'd never done so before. As the tune of Oingo Boingo's _Dead Man's Party_ , played again and again and again...

It was the best night of their lives.

 _ **THE END**_


End file.
